


[light of a thousand stars]

by cm (mumblemutter)



Series: Tumblr Things [6]
Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Crossdressing, Ficlet, Incest, Lingerie, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-22 18:36:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2517746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblemutter/pseuds/cm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>(Reposted from <a href="http://lokiagentofhotness.tumblr.com/post/87592948297/">Tumblr</a>.)</p>
    </blockquote>





	[light of a thousand stars]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> (Reposted from [Tumblr](http://lokiagentofhotness.tumblr.com/post/87592948297/).)

The lingerie comes in a black box, buried in pale pink wrapper. Thor is conversing with the Avengers, and they barely give him a second glance. The people of Midgard enjoy bestowing him with gifts, although they are usually not so delicately wrapped. Nor are they white silk undergarments, too large for most women, and most men.

There is only one person in all the Realms that could have sent him these.

He has to wait until he returns to his room, and then Loki is waiting for him, arms crossed. "Took you long enough."

"Am I to wear - these?" Thor holds the lingerie bunched in his hand.

"Yes, well. I thought we'd live a little. Spice up our sex life and all that."

"I was not aware it needed - spicing up." It is new, and uncertain, for all that it is an old dance that they have done countless times. _Awkward_ , as the younger version of Loki would say.

But not this Loki. This Loki stalks forward to stand on his tiptoes, pulls Thor's helmet over his head. His smile is beautiful, and almost sweet, and Thor's heart aches. "Remember when you wore that wedding dress."

"Aye."

"I would have married you then, if I could have. You looked good enough for a Parisian runway."

Thor doesn't believe him, but says, "Turn around, I will change into - I will change."

Loki turns around dutifully, crosses his arms and starts a low, steady whistle as Thor undresses.

The stockings go up past his knees, held up by suspenders. Thor manages to fit his half hard cock inside the silk underwear, but cannot put on the bustier, which fastens at the back. He grunts in discontent and Loki is immediately at his side, offering help. "You were to remain turned around."

"Yes, but you're kind of helpless without me." Loki fastens the buttons too slow, his fingers lingering. "Would you let me take pictures of you," he breathes against Thor's shoulder.

"Would you promise not to paste them all over the internet?"

Loki sighs. "I will, but just so you know, you'll be disappointing thousands. You're the most popular Avenger, you know."

"Am I?"

"Well, in certain circles. I run a blog, it's very popular."

Thor allows Loki to prop him on the bed, to pose him as he desires and to photograph him. His fingers skitter over Thor's skin as he rearranges him as one would a doll, and Thor has to refrain from jerking upwards every time they stray too near his cock, which is already so hard it begins to ache, constrained as it is within the silk. Thor can already see dampness spreading across the white lace, and he feels dazed, as if submerged in a heated bath and unable to move save for wherever Loki commands.

Lift your leg.

Turn sideways onto the one hip, lower your gaze.

Hair over the shoulders, please.

Yeah, that's it, it's perfect, you're perfect. Hold.

Loki straddles him when he is satisfied, shows Thor the pictures displayed on the camera. "Aren't you the prettiest princess in all the nine Realms."

Thor cannot see any particular beauty in his rough, muscular form. Women are beautiful, softly curved and smooth. Loki is beautiful, always. But the more striking is the indulgence on his own face, the naked devotion. Is he this obvious, then? He can only conclude that he is.

Thor takes the camera from Loki, takes a picture of him with his head lowered, hair covering half his face. He wants to kiss him, aches to do nothing but, and so he puts the camera away, tugs on the bottom of Loki's hooded shirt. "What are we doing, brother?"

"Enjoying this while it lasts?" Loki's voice is light, almost humorous, but there is no humor in the sharp slash of his lips.

"Do you already foresee the end?"

"I foresee a lot. It's kind of what I do. I always know how the story ends." His sigh is heavy. "But we can just pretend that it will last forever. That's kind of what I do, as well."

"I know." Thor pushes Loki's hair out of his eyes, gives in to an earlier impulse.

"My jeans are too tight," Loki grimaces as he allows Thor to tug him down so their faces are barely apart.

"They do seem to be designed that way, brother. Perhaps a size up, next time."

Loki's forehead furrows into a frown. "If I didn't know better I'd say you were joking. But you don't have a sense of humor, if I'm remembering that correctly."

Thor lifts his hand, smooths away the furrow with his thumb. "On the contrary, I am the god of thunder and of great gaiety. There, you are smiling now, see."

Loki turns his face into his hand, kisses his palm. "Brother," he says. "Will you -"

And it is a yes.

It is Loki, and so it will always be a yes.

Loki hooks his fingers under the silk underwear, and Thor assists him by lifting his hips so he can slide them down. The smile on his face broadens, and he is curious, this Loki. Not a young godling innocent and sweet, and not yet the old god consumed by hate.

He dips his hand between Thor's thighs, and his fingers are warm, slick with oil. Thor spreads his legs, but says, "Kiss me first." He does not wait for a response, merely pulls Loki down to press their lips together. Loki sighs, settles down onto him.

It is slow, as it has rarely ever been.

Thor remembers nights like these, but they have not been this gentle, this sweet, in centuries.

Loki gasps when inside of him, as if surprised. Thor rests his hand on the small of his back, marvels at how it feels as if it spans the entirety of its width. 

"I love you," Thor whispers, reverent, against his lips.

"I know," Loki says, and his laugh is quiet, faintly hopeless. "Oh, Thor. I have always known."


End file.
